It’s been six months since I lost Lucy. I like to believe she’s patiently waiting at the gates of heaven — ready for the reunion when I meet her again one day.
I still think about this sweet and faithful companion every single day. If you’ve ever had a dog who you loved, you’ll understand.
When I put the key into my front door when I return home each day, part of me still waits to hear the sound of her tail hitting the door as she realizes I’ve returned.
When I get up in the morning, part of me still feels compelled to get her leash and take her for the first walk of the day — something she loved so much. At night, part of me wants to take her for one last walk before bed, because each walk made her so happy.
But I can’t do those things, because the World’s Happiest Dog isn’t here anymore.

The love I crave seems beyond horizon, always out of my reach
The more I see of death, the more determined I am to live life fully
When Demopublicans and Republicrats clash, you lose
Do we really need so much ‘stuff’? Do we own it? Or does it own us?
Cat’s ordeal reminds me that bad things happen right under my nose
You can change your story, but you first must throw away the old ones
Could free cities turn reservations from abject poverty to prosperity?
Kitten outsmarted me for weeks, but Alex finally joined our family